One Last Lesson
by Engar
Summary: After a particularly brutal encounter with Slade, Robin spends the night by a hospital bed. Now it is morning and the patient, battered and bruised, has one final thing to say. PostSeason Four.


It's quiet in the hospital.

Time caught between the mystical points of day and night; somewhere that isn't so much late as it is incredibly early. The hallway outside, where the guard sits and stares into oblivion, is dark with care to the sleeping patients. Few people crawl through that hallway.

Not with the 'guest' the hospital is currently hosting.

The room is dark also. Neither of its' two occupants require much lighting; one unconscious, the other accustomed to dark places. One lies, the other sits and glares through the window into the faint glow that might just become a new day. That faint light, twilight, managing to colour the red and the yellow his clothes.

Eyemask tattered but firm across his face, Robin listens to the hum of electrical equipment and wishes he were anywhere but where he is. Above all else he hates the hospital. Hates it for the power it holds over him and the people he grudgingly cares about.

Superheroes aren't meant to get hurt but it happens all the same. Each and every visit to the place is imprinted somewhere inside, along with the various reasons that he shouldn't have let it happen. But he had. Robin doesn't let guilt slow him down, doesn't let it hold him back. Quite the opposite. Guilt fuels the Boy Wonder just as much as Justice.

Sitting there, his clothes scuffed, his face bruised, his hair cast into disarray, and so tired that his very body hangs on the support of will power alone, Robin is more awake and aware than most human beings will ever be. Aware of himself. Aware of the room around him. Most importantly, aware of the figure on the bed.

So when that figure twitches and the eye ceases to roam behind its' lid, chest gently pressing against the straps that bind it, Robin merely turns towards the bed.

"I see you so often in my dreams," the man opens his one remaining eye and smiles up at the boy, "when I wake, you're still there.."

"If you're trying to say something by quoting a suspected p-"

"Really, Robin. I was para.. para.." voice trailing off, tightening almost, he holds for a few seconds longer, then descends into racking coughs that send shudders through his entire body. Disciplined though he is, Robin can see the intense pain that they cause.

The man licks blood from his lips, and smiles.

It really is quite a handsome smile.

"I imagine you've dreamt of this moment.."

"I got over it." Hard as it had been, he had. "In the end the obsession cost more than it gained."

"Nevertheless, here we are.."

Slowly, taking care to keep out of arms reach, Robin leans over the prone, restrained body. Studies that bombardier blue eye. Examines the man so long hidden by the machine. The one thing that remains shocking - out of everything - is how _old_ he really is. All those fights, all those incredible fights, and he turns out to be at least over fifty years old. Hair completely white, face strong but creased with wrinkles.

"And now," he continues, staring back, "you shall have your revenge."

"Justice," Robin corrects him, "The city will have justice."

Slade smiles wryly and once again Robin is struck by how normal he looks when concentrating on the face. Like any other man, getting a check-up perhaps. Yet to look lower.. well..

His body is bound not just by leather straps. Bandages criss-cross his form, the third set he has been given in the short time he has been here. Both legs and arms have been set and cast, suspended above the bed in the pinnacle of indignity. His metal suit replaced with a hospital gown, his mask forgotten in a cavern Robin will soon revisit.

His eyes flicker for but a moment, Slade still catches the glance.

"Not 'justice' enough, Robin?"

"If you're going to beg for mercy-"

"Just admit it," his eye flares, "_admit you want me to burn!_"

* * *

In the beginning it was just another fight.

Word had gotten out. Normally it wouldn't have. Normally Slade could have worked without a sound. Being dead could have a disquieting affect on certain people - the iron fist appears flaked with rust. He who can die once can die twice. The fear Slade had controlled and manipulated was tainted by doubt.

So word had gotten out.

A farm no more than ten miles from the city - to which Slade was tied just as much as the Titans - perched precariously over a set of caverns that made even Robin stop short. The Bat Cave couldn't have matched them; some relic of volcanic activity. Massive pillars of rock, a millennium of stalagmites leading to stalactites, rose up from the dark, some of them supporting the farm itself, and amongst them Slade had just begun to build his new base.

Two months since Trigons' temporary take over and he had already amassed a formidable force of robots. This new branch, lesser in number, were at least twice as strong as the originals and ten times as agile. Even as the Titans dropped down in the open walled elevator, mouths agape at the extent of the caverns, manlike robots were dropping from the ceiling and rising from the metal platforms below, propelled by rockets firing from their feet.

In an instant four had landed on the roof, razor sharp claws slicing the metal cable asunder, and the elevator plummeted. Raven moved to hold it with magic but Robin shook his head - more good as a distraction than transport.

"Titans, go!"

Then he was leaping, arms folded to his sides, into thin air, the musty taste of the caverns disappearing as wind rushed past him. One droid appeared at his side, slashing downwards, and he gripped his cape, using it to pull him backwards just enough to avoid the blow. He landed on the machines' back, gripping both arms tight, and steered it around before it could react.

In that one moment he took in the position of the others.

Beast Boy, like him, was grappling with the droids hand to hand. In the form of a gorilla he held four, one in each paw, and hovered for a split-second on their combined momentum. Then his pure strength yanked them together, crushing their metal bodies into one mangled ball, and even as he began to drop he turned and hurled it into a thick cluster which were gathering around-

Cyborg, held up beside Raven on a disk of black magic, was lighting the cavern with beams of neon blue. The air around them was literally sparkling with the parts of the machines that dropped. Raven herself extended talons of night, slashing through the droids that broke past Cyborgs' sonic cannon. Even as Beast Boys' ball smashed through a particularly large group she was looking up towards-

Starfire was being followed by the thickest of the group, possibly because of the similarities in they way they fought the robots had judged her the greatest threat. She weaved between the pillars, starbolts dropping molten metal behind her, twin lasers from her eyes searing through the ranks of the droids, but still more continued to gather until-

Robin whipped a birdarang from his belt and, pausing to slice the head from the robot he rode, leapt towards the Tamaranian as she flew towards him. The two caught each others eye, then he was bringing the weapon around, into her path.

Without a blink she rolled out of the way, the birdarang sliced right through two robots then embedded itself in a third in the centre of the group. They followed Starfire without hesitating and, as she dove down into the darkness, an explosion ripped through them all.

For a moment Robin dropped, black fast approaching, then two amber arms wrapped around him from behind.

"I thank you for your assistance, it was most appreciated!"

"No problem, Star," he answered shortly. At any other time such a position, being held from behind by Starfire, might have resulted in a blush at the very least. In battle however - and it was battle, always battle, with Slade - such rules did not apply. Hormones were put on hold. "Land on that platform, but be careful. Slade's close."

Metal platforms, make-shift creations at best, were suspended between several of the pillars, the thickest of the group. Where they were connected the pillars had been tunnelled out, less than a quarter of the width of the rock but enough for reasonable sized rooms.

The two of them landed near one such pillar, the inside lit by the acerbic glow of electric lamps. It was little more than storage space; crates that glittered with electronics equipment; foil packages spilled out over a plastic table. Clearly Slade had expected to lead a quiet life for a while. He hadn't given much preparation for guests.

For the first time in his career Robin really had the drop on him.

Titans Communicator flipping open, he turned back towards Starfire and shot a smile her way. She returned it ten-fold but still kept her eyes open, her hands raised in case of trouble.

"Gu-"

"Robin!" Cyborgs' voice cut right across his own, "they're headed your way!"

"How many?" he nodded towards Starfire and the two looked up, eyes widening.

"_All of them!_"

They landed all along the walkway, three columns forming side by side, the white of their eyes gleaming in the orange circle of their face. Hands tipped with serrated claws rose up, glinting in the light thrown off by the massive lamps, and for a moment the two sides hesitated.

"Get down here," ordered Robin, Bo Staff lengthening in his free hand, "Now!"

"They are.." Starfire took a step backwards, hands glowing, beside Robin, "_quite_ numerous."

"Not for long!"

Spinning the staff over his head, Robin charged with Starfire by his side. Two bolts of green energy sent a few of the droids stumbling off the edge of the platform even as Robin reached his own target, staff catching the robot in its' midsection and sending it spiralling backwards into the air. He kept moving, spinning to smash the face of another, ducking under a slash to dig the staff under anothers' legs and lever it over the side.

Finding himself in the centre of the group, Robin rose spinning and his staff came around and around, forcing the creatures back. For a moment they paused, eyeing him in their silent way. The metal creaked as they shifted their feet.

"Starfire?"

No answer, the platform held only he and the other droids.

"_Starfire!_"

The droids leapt.

"Robin!"

The Boy Wonder back-flipped onto the shoulders of one of the flying robots and, in that split second, caught sight of the Tamaranian rising up from the depths, metal parts falling away from her fists. He hung there, balanced on the soaring droid, mind moving a mile a minute.

"Take out the platform!"

Without waiting to see her comply - he knew she would - Robin launched himself backwards off the robot, to land on another. He jumped again and again, even as they tried to turn, to land on clear space. Without a of hesitation he was running - sprinting - for the opposite pillar. Behind him he could hear the flare of rockets - then a terrible, ear shattering groan as the walkway was ripped from its' support.

Still running, Robin reached to his belt, seized a grappling hook and took aim. Waiting for just the right moment.

The walkway fell from his feet and it was the right moment.

He fired, giving the metal one last kick to send himself higher, and the sharpened head of the hook buried itself deep inside the rock of the pillar. Swinging from one hand, shrinking the Bo Staff with the other, Robin urged his body forwards, drawing the hook in just enough to land inside of another dug out pillar.

Turning, letting the grappling hook hang free, he took in the sight of all his team mates battling the droids; none had followed him. Almost as if it were..

"Distraction."

Robin threw himself sideways in the last moment, a metal encased leg scything through the air where his head had been. He landed crouched, one hand steadying, the other already reaching towards his belt, and faced his nemesis.

"I told you things wouldn't be different, Slade. And I meant it."

Stepping fully into the light, hands clasped behind his back, Slade managed to broadcast a smile through the mask.

"Really, Robin. I wouldn't have it any other way.."

Staff clicking into place behind his back, Robin snarled and threw himself forwards.

"Hya!"

Slade ducked the first blow and side stepped the second, one open hand coming around to strike Robin in the side and send him skidding backwards. The man brought his other hand around and stepped forwards, spinning on the back of his heel into a swift roundhouse that Robin just managed to duck.

Crouching, Robin kicked into the back of Slades' knee as he continued to turn. Even as the man crumpled forwards, Robin brought his staff into the crook his leg made and, as he rose, heaved Slade onto his back.

Then Robin was backing into the pitch black of the carved room beyond.

"Face it, Slade. You're beaten."

"Am I?" Slade rose slowly to his feet, staring into the darkness. "Isn't that a little premature."

"There's only one way out of here and it's through me. I'm giving you a chance, give yourself up."

The man stumbled slightly, one hand brushing against the wall. He closed his eye and drew a loud breath.

"Your mercy is touching," a finger brushed against a small box fixed to the rock, "but I don't trust it.."

"I'm not the one here with the shaky morality."

"Ah, yes, your morality. Good vs Evil with a line never to be crossed-"

"_Look_, are you going to give up or do we have to continue with this?"

"I know what you want, Robin. What you _need_. Time to bring the light back to your eyes."

And he flicked the light-switch.

Robin cried out with shock, one hand pressed against his forehead as bright, damning light seared his night-eyes. Spots of purple and red danced across his vision for a moment, but a moment, then Slades' fist was the only thing he could see.

He stumbled to the side, disorientated further, and smacked right into another plastic table, staff falling away. Then he was being grasped by his cape and hurled back against the wall. Robin bounced of the rock, stumbling, into another of Slades' blows - a fist digging into his stomach, another into his kidneys.

Coughing and spluttering, Robin lashed out and caught a lucky blow on Slades' neck. His eyesight only just beginning to return, Robin forced himself out of the mans' grip and ran - caught for a moment by the desire to be free. Then he was in the light again, a cooler light, and stepping out of the room into thin air.

There was a cry and Slade, who had hesitated only to give himself time to recover, slowly stepped towards the opening. He glanced downwards, along the metal platform that still half-clung to the pillar, but Robin was nowhere in sight. Slade must have realised that no matter how disorientated, Robin would never have let himself roll all away down there without catching hold of something.

For by the time that Robin - who had managed to seize the swinging grappling hook and steady himself against the wall above the opening - was coming back down, he looked up to the sight of both boots smashing hard into his face.

Titan and man rolled over each other into the room; rising in the same instant.

"You want this, Robin," Slade sneered, circling him, "the anger, the hate, the resentment. You don't want some quiet arrest; you want _blood!_"

Slade launched himself at Robin, both hands reaching to grapple, to crush, but Robins' thin body slipped out of his grasp and rolled around behind him. He kicked upwards at Slades' back but the man had already turned, catching the foot and swinging Robin around, hurling him towards the platform that extended from the other side of the room.

"You think you understand me, Slade?" Robin panted, but rose once again, facing the monster as he stepped onto the walkway. "You think you know me so well! You don't know a thing about me!"

"I know your drive! Your intensity! It frightens your friends, doesn't it! They aren't like us, Robin! They never will be!"

Two further Bo Staffs, Robins' last but who knew how many Slade had, clicked into action - then clashed as man and child faced off. They held for a moment, then Slade adjusted his footing and forced Robin backwards - surprisingly easily. Robin dropped into a roll and Slade flew over him, managing to turn his fall into a somersault and landing easily on his feet.

Robin rolled back up and brought his staff down on Slades' shins; to be blocked. Spinning around, he attacked Slades' head but was caught short again.

They continued their inelegant dance, Robin forcing Slade backwards, Slade giving the ground easily enough. Back towards another room. Another dark, mysterious room.

"They hold you back, Robin!"

All at once Slade broke, shoving Robin hard and darting for the room. Even as his feet clacked against the platform, Robin was bringing around his last grappling hook and firing it towards the pillar, thumbing the retract button and, for one brief moment, _flying_.

He landed in front of Slade and growled, staff gripped tight in his gloved hands.

"You're right, Slade! They do hold me back! My friends are what keep me from sinking to _your_ level. Now give up!"

Without answering, Slade charged with his staff swinging. Robin blocked the first blow, and the second, but they kept coming and Slade kept forcing him backwards, into the dark. Immediately Slades' hand went for the light switch but Robin was already leaping backwards, birdarang slicing the shadows to ribbons before shattering the light bulb. He caught himself with one hand and flipped further backwards, onto his feet, facing Slade.

Staff discarded, Slade grasped something in the dark and, orange flames ignited, brought the double headed axe he had found in hell to bear. Instead of lighting the room, it brought shadows - the strongest being Slades' own as he lifted the axe above his head. That shadow enveloped Robin but the boy did not blink.

"A pity. You could have been so much more."

Slade darted forwards, the flaming head of the axe tearing through the air towards him, and Robin back flipped over the first attack, ducking the second even as he backed away. Silent, resolute, Slade continued his approach, the tip of one of the blades bringing up sparks as it dragged across the platform.

Waiting, taking his time, looking for that one chance, Robin saw Slade tense and reacted just as another attack came. Slades' weapon came down in a diagonal slash and Robin rolled forwards, out of its' path and towards his enemy, rising with another birdarang singing. The other blade came around as Slade spun, blocking the missile, but when contact was made a block of ice formed around the head and drew it down.

Temporarily off balance, Slade stumbled, and already Robin was bringing bolos around - the rope striking his legs and the balls wrapping it tight around them. By the time that he had turned the axe to cut with the remaining side, Robin was there. Grabbing the weapon. Wrestling with his opponent.

They stood there grunting, pulling and pushing, tired boy against off-balance man, knowing that a life rested on who got the weapon first. Finally Robin, turning the bar horizontally, leapt up and steadied his feet against Slades' chest, pulling with everything he had left; cords standing out on his neck, muscles straining in his arms and legs until, finally, Slade's grip was broken.

The two hung for a moment in mid-air, both falling off opposite sides of the same platform, axe spinning away into the black. Robin had the furthest to travel to cross the platform so he managed, just, to stretch his hands out and catch hold of the metal. Slade, much closer to the edge he fell off, somehow turned his fall into a backwards somersault and, as he came around, his hand shot out and.. brushed against the metal.

Before Robin knew what was happening, Slade was falling. The boy reached for his belt but it was no use, there was no grappling hook to use. Hanging there by one hand, Robin had the perfect view of what came next.

A relatively new stalagmite had formed just below them - just below being at least two hundred feet. Slade landed rolling on his arms, trying to support the most of his body, but even from his far vantage point Robin could hear a series of cracks. Then the darkness swallowed him up; still rolling, still falling.

With a great deal of difficulty - his body exhausted - Robin heaved himself back onto the platform. And there he lay, panting, for a while. Still he forced himself to reach to his belt and pull out the communicator, flicking it open.

"Titans, report?"

"The robots have been taken care of," Raven, the first face to appear, blinked as her monotone voice fluctuated into worry, "what about you?"

"I'm fine.. I met with Slade but it didn't go exactly the way I planned. He took a pretty bad fall. May be dead."

"_Robin_!" Starfires' face forced itself onto the scream, "You are most certainly _not_ fine! You have bruises and marks and-"

"Come on, girl, take it easy!"

"Yeah, Star, shouldn't we be findin' Robin instead of shoutin' at him?"

"Eep!"

"Just follow the platform that Starfire took out, I'm a couple of pillars away from you. Robin, out."

He shut the communicator and sighed, allowing himself to just lie for a moment. No more than a moment, of course, because he couldn't allow the others to see how tired he really was; just enough to regain some strength.

And he'd need it. For what was to come.

Robin didn't doubt that Slade was alive but as to his condition.. well..

* * *

"Admit it!"

In spite of his iron clad will, Robin rocks backwards under the hail of spit and rage that Slade pours upon him. As though, unable to cast physical blows, he has to content himself with metaphysical ones. They cost him just the same; the machines are beeping just a little faster.

"You will be given a fair trial-"

"There isn't a judge or jury in this country, let alone this state, that would give me one-"

"_And_ you will take the punishment it decides you deserve."

"Death, Robin, is what they believe I deserve. And you do too, so admit it."

"I-"

"_Admit it!_"

"_Fine!_ Yes! I do want you dead!" His resolve snapping, Robin grips the side of the bed, only to prevent himself from doing worse, and glares right back at the ageing terrorist. "You've caused the suffering of countless people; you've nearly destroyed me and the people I care about more times than I can remember! You deserve nothing less!"

"Then why don't you finish me yourself," Slade retorts sharply and, against all reason, the leather of his straps strain as he pushes himself higher, "why don't you kill me, you coward!"

"It's against the law!"

"But you would if you could!"

"I-"

"Face it, Robin, you can't bear the fought of blood staining your _innocent_ hands! You, and the others of your kind, think I am a monster. But I am only willing to do what you wish you could!"

"Don't give me that," Robin snaps back, ever aware of the shrill warning the machines are giving, "You had no agenda beyond power; you aren't political, you're power hungry!"

"I am a visionary! And every man, woman and child I have hurt has been because, when you had the chance, you could not summon the bravery to do what I do. The ultimate step. Ending life!"

"You'd like that!" Robin turns away, running a hand across his face. His encounters with Slade have always been exhausting but this, being stuck around him, is nearly as bad his time as an apprentice. "But that's the border between hero and vigilante, and I wont cross it. Ever."

"Even to save life?"

Robin is silent.. but Slades' harsh breathing fills the void. The man is working himself up and it is tearing his body apart - perhaps that is the intent. Where are the nurses or doctors; why doesn't the guard check on them?

But.. it is obvious.

They don't want Slade to live.

Perhaps it is a decision made by all of them together, or each as individuals, but no one in the hospital will come to his aid. Even the help they had given has been grudging; Robin had accepted the disgusted looks they wore as a matter of course but now he realises how deep it runs.

Smiling up at him, Slade knows that very well.

"You _want_ to die," says Robin, speaking slowly.

"I am an extremely smart man, I know when there is no way out." He pauses, another set of coughs sending shudders down his frame. "The doctors have set my bones wrong, were I to continue living I could only run on them by breaking and setting them myself. The same for my arms. I might have considered escape otherwise; alas the Hippocratic oath is not what it once was."

"So just lie there. Wait."

"For what? To be told when and how I shall die? No, I think I prefer this. Dying by my own will."

"I.. I never thought I'd see you give up."

"Oh," and here Slade breaks into a wide, beautiful grin, "I wouldn't call this a defeat. My last lesson to you, apprentice, is on the nature of mankind. You are not the only one of us who bays for blood. And tomorrow, when the news goes out, you will understand."

Robin opens his mouth to ask.. but the question dies on his lips as Slade begins to shake. Mouth still grinning, eye wide and gleaming, Slade presses himself up against the straps, straining his entire body upwards, as though levitating through shear will power. The straps strain and strain, the buckles warping under the pressure, and for a moment - one odd little moment - Robin really believes Slade will break free.

But then it ends. He falls back against the bed and a trickle of blood begins to leak from his nostrils and ears. In one last act of strength Slade has proven his spirit too strong for his body.

Robin steps back and stretches his arms out over his head, yawning wide and long. He is suddenly aware that, in the time that he and Slade have spoken, the sun has risen. A new day born out of the ashes of the old one. Robin take one last look at all that remains of his enemy, then steps outside and tells the guard he can go home.

There it is; there is Slades' last lesson.

Beneath the relief and the grim satisfaction, which Robin expects, is something that shocks him all the way down to the core.

Disappointment.

Even these people, who had hoped for death that night, are disappointed. They had wanted, just as he said, to see Slade burn. He sees it on the street as he rides home, on every face his eyes cross. Has news reached them so soon or is he merely imprinting on them what he fears?

Robin honestly does not know.

Slades' last piece of instruction, echoing through his mind.

_We are all monsters._


End file.
